


A holly, jolly pre-Christmas

by philippcarlyle



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Animals, Charity and P.T. are not married, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, TGSSecretSanta2k18, Winter, barlyle - Freeform, this is just cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 17:30:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17104994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philippcarlyle/pseuds/philippcarlyle
Summary: It's the middle of December, after the Jenny Lind tour.Christmas is just around the corner.





	A holly, jolly pre-Christmas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Schizanthus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schizanthus/gifts).



> Dear Schiz, I hope you have a wonderful time, a happy end of the year and that the next may be just as great! I’m really grateful that I got to meet you and know you :D (also loved that I got you as my Secret Santa recipient, hehe) I really hope you enjoy this little gift!
> 
> Just a quick overview:  
> Charity and P.T. are not married, but friends.  
> Phil and P.T. have been dating/kind of sneaking around each other since “the other side”, moved in together after P.T.’s tour with Jenny and are a happy little couple.

**~A holly, jolly pre-Christmas ~**

*******

_There’s straw everywhere._

_Had their house become a stable during Philip’s absence? It had only been two hours, so it was unlikely. Or so he hoped._

_Hanging his woollen jacket and signature red velvet top hat on a hook, Phillips slips out of his wet shoes. His feet are frigid and...moist; Philip grimaces. Slowly he proceeds into the salon, following the trail of hay, straw, and nibbled-on vegetables._

_The fire is already burning in the enormous fireplace, thank God, and with all the straw and fir branches it smells a lot like Christmas. On the rug in front of said fireplace sits his worse half. Philip smirks to himself; he’d never say it out loud, but truly, Phineas was the better half that he needed. However, the showman appeared to have company._

_From the way he’s crouched and how his arms are placed, Philip assumes he’s cuddling something. Then he hears the eager chewing and crunching of a small animal obliterating what he assumes is a carrot. P.T. chuckles and slides down further until he’s nearly lying on the rug. Philip is torn. He doesn’t want to disturb the wonderful scene, but on the other hand he’s absolutely ready to slump down next to P.T., cling to the tall man, and snatch a kiss or two._

**Earlier that day...**

It is an extraordinarily cold winter. Snowflakes tumble down from a grim sky and powder the houses and streets in dreamlike white. The truly magical view goes unnoticed by Philip Carlyle. Not because he couldn’t appreciate the winter wonderland outside, he just didn’t have the time.

“Where is my hat?!” He lifts his jacket. He drops it again. He moves chairs and opens closets. His favourite carmine red top hat is nowhere to be seen. Philip sighs and shrugs in exasperation. There’s nothing he can do about it now unless he wants to be late.

He really doesn’t want to be late. With his jacket, boots, and no top hat he leaves the house.

At exactly 1pm Philip enters the tent. Despite the troupe’s efforts to keep it warm, it’s still chilly inside. Philip brushes some frost from his jacket, which is more frozen than wet, and shrugs it off quickly, proceeding further into the tent. The main arena is empty and he passes through it without a second glance. Attached to the main tent is a smaller one. Noises erupt from it and Philip recognises the voices before he even sees the people.

“But we’re a _circus!_ ”

“Exactly!”

“I don’t know, Barnum. This isn’t just risky, but - most importantly - it doesn’t fit our theme.”

“That’s my whole point, when have we ever been ordinary or...boring?” This is unmistakably the showman himself, and Philip can just imagine him with his arms spread out, eyes shining, talking about his newest vision.

“That is not what I meant and you know it.”

Lettie looks at him when Philip enters the smaller tent and points a finger at him. She shoots him a quick smile, then gestures for him to come in and take part in the discussion.

Philip glances around; there’s the usual few involved in the discussion – Lettie, Charles, Anne and W.D.. Deng Yan and Rosie stay to greet him, but proceed with their training and step further away. The remaining ones face P.T., and while Charles looks amused, Anne exhibits a critical leaned-back posture.

“Good afternoon, Philip. Would you be so kind as to assist Mr Barnum in coming to his senses?” she asks and raises her eyebrows.

“I bet Philip would agree with me, wouldn’t you, _Phil?_ ”

Philip sighs. He drops his jacket and - nearly patting his hair - not his top hat onto a bench and rubs his hands together to try and fend off the the freezing cold. Anne pats the empty chair next to her and Philip gratefully sits down in between her and Charles.

“Well, first of all, hello everyone,” he begins, and everyone murmurs a greeting.

Constantine yells a “Welcome, Carlyle” from where he sits at the far back of the tent, sewing together a new cape for the Christmas shows. Or rather, embroidering a finished red garment with various sized  snowflakes. Philip takes a moment to stare and nods. In the beginning he never would have guessed that the tattooed man and Jeremy would be the ones that helped with the costume designs the most.

“...so this is my – are you paying attention to me? Stop staring at other people, _I’m_ your sweetheart.”

Philip feels his face heat up and it’s definitely not because of the high temperature.

Offering only a shrug as an apology he turns and faces P.T. again. The showmaster stands with his arms crossed and head cocked to the side. Philip immediately feels the tips of his ears grow warm. Luckily no one reacts to Barnum’s flirtatious behaviour except for a few giggles - the troupe had expended all their snickering comments weeks ago when the ringmasters’ more intimate partnership had been shared.

“You were saying?” He forces out through pressed lips, trying to sound casual. No need to get all flustered in front of everyone. _Too late._ And, of course, P.T. notices.

“I was saying I had a brilliant idea. What do you think about-” he stops to spread his arms, then takes a step forward and throws one arm around Philip’s shoulders. “A magic trick for our Christmas shows?”

P.T. abruptly lets go of him and spins to stand in front of them all, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Not that Philip had read that very confusing, obviously made-up by a madman story for children in his free time during the last week. He can’t help thinking P.T. and that peculiar Lewis Carroll would get along very well.

“You do realise that all we do is sell tricks, show illusions, and entertain people with things that aren’t real, right?”

“Duh, that’s not what I’m talking about. A tall person or a man with lots of tattoos is no magic.”

“Excuse you, I am magical,” Constantine interrupts, mainly to show off his finished clothes, Philip assumes. The tattooed man presents the Christmas-y cape and gets the appropriate “oos” and “ahhs” the handiwork deserves. Satisfied, he leaves to help Jeremy with his outfit in the other corner of the tent.

“He is,” Anne quips. She leans against her brother, looking disinterested, but her next words betray her. “We are all unique in our own ways; do we really need cheap tricks, which shift the focus?”

She may be right, Philip thinks. He’d heard of ‘magicians’ and ‘illusionists’ touring around the states, but what they did was completely different to their show. He’d always loved their close-knit relationships, the spectacle, and their honest love-filled songs that connected with their audience. A magic trick might not fit.

“I agree with Anne. We already voted for two weeks of Christmas-themed shows – which is insane in itself, but not impossible. But we should stay true to ourselves. I’m not saying we can’t expand our skill set, the songs and the show itself, but a magic show would be out of place.”

P.T. pouts, but shrugs in defeat. He looks around and it’s almost as if he’s seeing the tent for the first time all over again. Seeing their incredible show unfold; the infectious music and leaping animals. Philip smiles.

“Maybe you’re right...” he sighs, but doesn’t seem as downcast.

“Of course I am, come on,” Philip quips and pats the showman’s shoulder. He nods at the others and gently guides P.T. from the middle of the tent to the smaller exit at the back. When P.T. slips out into the cold, Philip glances back for a second.

Lettie has taken over P.T.’s spot in the middle of the group and organises everyone for the next number. They’re still coordinating the routine,  just trying bits and pieces and merging new ideas together for one of the Christmas songs Lettie will sing.

Philip steps outside as well, intending to speak to P.T. in private, just for a minute. The showmaster seemed to accept their critique, but Philip could see why he might also be disappointed by his troupe rejecting the magic show-idea so brusquely.

When he sees P.T., however, his prepared little speech about the circus’ principles and concepts vanishes. He has obviously used his few seconds well in which Philip observed the happenings inside the tent. In his hands the tall man holds a red top hat. Wait a minute.

Philip frowns, his brows wrinkling, and he can’t stop an exasperated huff leaving his lips. The huff turns into a white puff and lingers in the air.

“So, you’re a thief now? Mr O’Malley isn’t a magician, you know.” Philip wants to be annoyed, but how can he stay mad with P.T. looking at him as if it’s his birthday.

“Hush, yours was the perfect size, shorty.”

They share a look, something between coquettish and sheepish, then Philip cracks a smile, a blush creeping from his cheeks to his ears. P.T. grins and carries on. “So, pay attention, mortal human.” He takes a black silk cloth out of his coat pocket and drapes it over his shoulder.

He then shows Philip his own hat which looks like it usually does, shiny and pristine. Philip nods, unsure what he is supposed to see. P.T. gives him the hat.

“Okay?” Philip asks, still confused and a bit amused. He searches P.T.’s face for any clues. The showman snatches the hat back and Philip buries his cold fingers inside his pants pockets. He should have brought his jacket along.

“The hat was totally normal, absolutely boring and empty, right?”

“Excuse me? This hat is a masterpiece and fashion statement and not at all boring. And...of course it was empty.”

“Great. Now, watch!” P.T. holds the hat upside down by the brim so Phillip is presented with the interior and takes the cloth from his shoulder. He then drapes the cloth over the hat.

Waving the hat around, the ringmaster wiggles his fingers and spins. Philip wouldn’t have guessed that P.T. could perform such a precise pirouette, but here they are. However, he still grips the hat firmly, holding the cloth in place. He stops in front of Philip and his eyes shine as bright as the sparks in Philip’s fireplace.

“Lift the cloth,” he tells Philip, and supports the top hat from the bottom. Philip complies.

Philip removes the cloth, then carelessly drops it to the ground where it spills onto the snow like black ink. The hat is no longer empty. A furry animal now occupies the space previously hidden by the cloth.

“Is that a rabbit?!”

“It is!” P.T. laughs, and takes the tiny fluffy creature out of the hat. It’s entirely white, except for its incredibly floppy ears.

“This is Caramel. Hold him,” P.T. speaks quietly now, as to not scare the animal. Philip takes the rabbit easily with one hand and hugs it to his chest. The white and light brown ears drape over the rabbits back as he softly caresses them. Caramel is either too afraid to move or very content with his current snuggled up position. Philip likes to think it’s the latter.

“Oh, he likes you,” P.T. murmurs Philip only hums in response, stroking along the fluffy snow white fur on the bunny’s back. Philip tears his gaze away from the delicate animal to glare at P.T.

“How could you put him in there?! First of all, now my hat will be forever furry, thanks. And secondly, he is so precious, how dare you?”

P.T. barks out a laugh and steps closer to Philip and the rabbit. He caresses Caramel with one cautious finger and quickly places a kiss on Philip’s cheek.

“I wanted to surprise you. And it doesn’t hurt him, it’s just a bit of magic.”

“You are incorrigible,” Philip mumbles, careful to keep the rabbit steady in his arms as he stands tall to reach P.T. for another, real kiss. P.T. bows down to meet him and the bunny is effectively trapped, yet not squished, between them.

“We should take him somewhere safe and warm,” Philip points out when they part again. To his surprise, P.T. just shrugs.

“He was my magic trick, I don’t need him anymore.”

“You must be kidding me. And you came up with that trick?” Philip is – against his will, of course, because they don’t need magic tricks in their circus – impressed. But P.T. looks a bit discomfited now. Not that he would ever admit to that.

“Not exactly. Let’s say I borrowed it from a Mister Comte from far away Paris.” When Philip shoots him a sceptical look, he adds: “The trick, not the rabbit. And it – the trick – has been done some times now by a few people, so it’s not stealing!”

“Well, it is. You’re just not the only one,” Philip answers, but a slow smile is pulling on his lips. He can’t believe P.T. had gotten a rabbit already, when he hadn’t even known whether everyone would approve of a magic number in the show.

“It’s not like you can get a patent for something as disreputable as a magic trick nowadays.”

Philip considers this and has to agree with P.T. It didn’t appear to be illegal to replicate some small illusions, but maybe he was biased with this dainty little animal in his arms.

“But you’re right, we should get inside again so the little guy’s ears don’t freeze off. And we are keeping him!”

“Good idea,” Philip replies and cover the rabbit’s ears with his hand. He knew P.T. wouldn’t want to give the animal away, even if he said so just to bait Philip.

They reenter the tent and P.T. places Philip’s hat onto a wardrobe which is already bursting with scarves and jackets. Philip reclaims his chair, although all of them are empty now.

Lettie, Adriane, Anne, W.D., Fedor, and Constantine go through their dance routine while Julius and Nea watch from an audience’s  perspective. The amazing golden dancers had taken it upon themselves, with support from Rita and Rose, to come up with a festive yet captivating choreography. Small silver bells jingle and Philip is certain he sees a candy cane in Lettie’s updo. It is a truly festive show already, despite still being in the rehearsal stages.

P.T. sits down next to him and swiftly folds his legs into a crossed-legged position. Philip places the rabbit onto his partner’s lap and grins when he sees the animal snuggle up against P.T.’s stomach.

“He is so adorable,” Philip cooes. P.T. nods in response and keeps his hands close to Caramel to prevent him from falling.

“Just like you, sweet as caramel,” P.T. teases, but his smile is warm and full of love, so Philip just hushes him with an abashed grin. He crosses his arms and matches P.T.’s laid back position, watching the rehearsal.

“OH MY - Would you shut your bone box for a second? Thank- WHAT IS THIS?”

“What the hell?” Jeremy enters the already crowded tent at the sound of the commotion, red and green fabric in his hands and thrown over his shoulder, possibly for the space Constantine occupied earlier.

“Awwwww, would you look at them?” Anne says and points at Philip and P.T.

“Ohhh, now I get it, no need to yell,” Constantine laughs, and slowly the troupe comes closer. P.T. lifts the rabbit up to his chest so everyone can see it.

“Allow me to introduce to you the new circus pet, Caramel.”

Usually there would be cheers, but around the easily startled creature everyone becomes more soft-spoken and careful. Lettie is the first to reach out and caress the animal. One after the other, everyone present pets Caramel and fusses over his smallness, his cute little ears, his tiny paws, and his sleepy eyes.

“I think he’s had enough attention, right?” Philip says after maybe half an hour.

“Yeah, you may be right. I can take him home.”

Philip raises an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought about where exactly the rabbit would stay. The tents grew too cold during the winter nights. And their  stables and pens for the other circus animals were way too big to keep such a tiny creature safe. So what can he do but agree?

“Oh, okay. Yes, sure, buy some carrots for him.”

P.T. grins and nods, then hands the animal over to Philip so he can put on some extra layers against the weather. He takes the bunny back and slips it into the inner pocket of his coat. One hand protects that side while the other one reaches out to Philip. The shorter man steps closer and kisses P.T.

“I’ll be home after the rehearsals and all that.”

“Don’t take too long, you studious, gorgeous man.” Philip blushes once again and buries his face into P.T.’s shoulder.

“Oh my God, shut up. I’ll be there in a few hours or something like that, you can use that time to set up a lovely little home for Caramel,” he suggests.

P.T. leans down to steal one last kiss, then he makes his way out of the side tent, through their main tent, and into the city. A freezing breeze comes in as the showmaster slips out. Philip shivers, but he hardly notices. A huge smile spreads over his face and with a joyful skip in his steps he joins the others in rehearsal.

It feels like they’ve just gotten a new family member. He stops in his tracks. Of course he considered the whole circus his family - but his thoughts weren’t with the troupe, no. It comes to him as easily as the role of organizer and second ringmaster did, to accept the idea of him and P.T. as a family. Now with an additional member to make them a family of three. With this heartwarming thought, Philip walks forward again.

Julius has just informed the dancers that they’d go through the entire routine once more that afternoon, with Nea leading  for additional support.

Philip is once again amazed by their capabilities. W.D. and Anne had picked it up as fast as usual, but even the others, who may have occasionally stumbled or forgotten steps, are in good form today. Maybe there’s something distinctly festive in the air, or these rehearsals seem that little bit more special, or, perhaps it’s just the gained experience. Either way, Philip is impressed.

He claps when the dancers and singers arrange themselves in the final position for the song, smiles bright and postures proud. They bow for him and Julius and hold for a couple more second before breaking away to talk about the performance; the issues yet to be resolved and the parts they’d crafted to perfection.

Lettie comes up to Philip.

“Hey there, you’re still here?”

“Of course I am,” he responds, although he isn’t sure why she’s asking.

“You know, Barnum’s usually the one who stays here until everyone leaves and overworks himself.”

Philip shoots her a knowing grin and shrugs. He knows that, obviously he does. But he doesn’t plan on staying here until late tonight. Lettie knows this too.

“I’m just checking in with Jeremy and Constantine about the costume designs, then perhaps we could finish today a bit early. What do you say, Ms Lutz?” Philip proposes.

One reason is the temperature, which is less than tolerable in the later hours. secondly, he wants to get home as quickly as possible. They all deserve to go home early every once in a while. Philip didn’t know a lot of people back in his rich-but-not-so-noble days who worked as hard and were as committed as these people here.

“Sounds good to me. And I bet Barnum’s already waiting for you,” Lettie smirks and wiggles her eyebrows. Philip releases a short laugh, but nods.

“Possibly, or he has run off with Caramel.” Lettie just pats his back, full of sympathy and amusement. Philip fakes a dramatic sighs  and walks over to Jeremy.

While he hasn’t said it aloud, he’s s relieved that everyone from the troupe accepted his and P.T.’s relationship. It’s not that he hadn’t expected tolerance from them - you just had to look at th weird family to see they weren’t judgemental - but, you know. Although, looking at Jeremy, who is now accompanied by Constantine, he should have known.

“Phil, my man!” Jeremy greets him. He looks up from his seat as best as he can with Constantine clinging to his arm, head resting on his left shoulder.

“Working hard, I see,” Philip comments on all the fabric which is sorted into piles on a huge table in front of them. Constantines finished clothes are already stowed away somewhere.

“Always, right, Con?” Jeremy says, and gets a sly laugh from the tattooed man in response. Philip just shakes his head, fighting off a grin.

“Okay, okay. Do you need any help? I mean, not from me, but-”

“Yeah, we know you don’t sew or anything, don’t worry. I can do this, you just gotta believe in me.” When Jeremy winks at him, Philip just crosses his arms and observes Jeremy’s fast and precise work. Constantine explains the designs of the flowing skirts, bright colours, and sparkling accessories they’ve considered for the festive outfits.

Philip gives both of them a thumbs up, and, with a last glance at the masses of fabric, turns to leave. On second thought, he turns around again.

“Oh, guys, I do believe in you. Uhm, also...you two…”

“Yes?” This was Constantine.

“Uh...do you, you know - get each other something for Christmas or anything?”

“Yes of course, everyone gets a gift,” Jeremy grins innocently. Philip huffs.

“That’s not what I meant. I mean, just for you two?”

“What’s the matter, Carlyle? Plain talking, now,” Constantine says.

“Okay, okay. Do you think it would be appropriate if I got P.T. a gift? Something personal?” He looks away awkwardly. Constantine and Jeremy share a knowing look.

“Of course,” Jeremy starts, and Constantine lets go off him to place a comforting hand on Philip’s shoulder.

Constantine agrees. “Sure, it would be nice gesture, and I bet Barnum would be totally amazed and kiss you to death.”

“Sounds good to me,” Philip grins and feels the awkward blush fade away. “Thanks, I know it’s silly to worry. I mean, no one would ever know, it’s not like we’re wandering around in public hand in hand.”

“Right,” Constantine says, standing behind his boyfriend again. “And you don’t have to, but it’s not forbidden to get a loved one something to show your affection.”

Philip beams at both of them and thanks them about five times more. He then leaves the circus, much earlier than usual.

*******

_Philip watches the peaceful scene play out in the salon for another few minutes. But, seriously, his feet were frozen blocks and his stomach ached. He quietly clears his throat as to not scare P.T._

_The showmaster turns his head and a wide grin spreads over his features. Philip immediately matches his expression and carefully comes closer. Straw sticks to his left sock and he nearly steps on a half-eaten carrot on his way. In front of the fireplace he slouches down and leans on to P.T, his feet finally getting the warmth they needed._

_“What unholy deity induced you to make our home look like an ill-maintained  stable?”_

_“Capitalism?”_

_“Very funny.”_

_“Thanks, I know. But look how happy he is!” P.T. slowly reaches out for the rabbit and places it in Philip’s lap. They watch the animal sniff Philip’s pants, make a ninety degree turn, and stretch out between his thighs. All three of them face the crackling fire now._

_“I guess we could build him an enclosure,” P.T. says after a while._

_“Yeah, that’s a good idea. As long as we’re here he can hop around on his own, I think. But just for his own safety it’d be good to keep him in one space.”_

_“Aye aye, Captain Carlyle,” P.T. agrees with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. He wraps one arm around Philip’s smaller frame and cuddles up closer. Caramel isn’t bothered by this at all, from Philip’s point of view the rabbit may very well be sleeping._

_“Great, cabin boy,” Philip teases back and leans in for a soft kiss. They rest their foreheads against one another and let the warm and cosy feeling sink into their bones. Philip yawns and glances around for the clock._

_“Oh dear, it’s already five and I haven’t eaten yet.”_

_“What do you mean, dinner isn’t until - wait, do you mean lunch?!” P.T. shoots him a stern look. Philip just shrugs. It wasn’t on purpose, he just left the house at an inconvenient time today. And P.T. shouldn’t be the appalled one, Philip was always well fed, growing up the way he did._

_“Stay here and cuddle the rabbit, I’ll make you some soup, poultry and vegetables,” P.T. says, already up on his feet. Philip grins and shakes his head. He pets Caramel and looks up to his very determined partner-in-everything._

_“Thank you, but make sure to make enough for both of us!”_

_“Of course, darling. I’ll be back in a bit - rest and cuddle the rabbit!”_

_Philip agrees with a laugh._

_That night he sleeps so calmly and relaxed in P.T.’s arms that he couldn’t care less if anyone saw him show affection towards the man he loved so much. He’d get P.T. the most expensive, tooth-rottingly sweet, suitable admiration-representing gift he could get! Or maybe he’d get a friend for Caramel? Or a few days off from the daily stress to take P.T. somewhere warm, secluded, and interesting?_

_He’d figure it out._

 

**~The End~  
**


End file.
